In the Path of OneShots
by AncientDoom
Summary: Varus's life is an adventure!


Note: This is a stupid AU episode that is based on a random idea and designed to be stupid. Just one of those stupid 'what if's'.

Anyone who makes the effort to figure out the purpose of this will find infinite joy out of the retardness of my ideas.

* * *

To Hell n Back

* * *

Note: This occurs near the end of "In the Path of Revan."

* * *

When, by the Force, did I get a mustache?

Its creepy. Sitting there on my face like a relaxed wookie on a couch. Its like a caterpillar decided to walk up and attack my mouth, or thinks it can recline, lay back, grab a beer, and watch me make an ass out of myself going about my day without realizing I have a mustache. Because that's just embarassing. It must be going "hahahahaha, dumbass."

Now my own mustache is mocking me…

"Varus, stop glaring at yourself in the mirror." Anakin tells me while he brushes his teeth. The giant probe he sticks in his mouth is supposed to emit some kind of radio wave thing that kills germs in a short distance, and the crap he rinses his mouth wish should be killing plaque or whatever grows on teeth. I asked him about it. I say fungus, he comes out with something straight out of a technical manual.

"Its threatening me." I tell him.

"What is?"

I turn on him and look at him purposefully like he's an idiot. "What?" He asks with the probe still in his mouth.

I point to the fur.

"Oh, that. What about it?"

"What about it?! Its horrendous! Its ugly! Its on my face! It don't belong on this face!" I treasure my face thank you very much. I don't want a mile long beard like an old fart going down to my ankles and making me trip over myself. I like being able to see where to shove my food without there being a furry curtain in the way. Its stupid, its childish, and IT DON'T BELONG THERE! That is just wrong in a hundred different ways. All of which say "it don't work." Yes, it doesn't work so much that it counts as a hundred reasons at once. There is that much underlining, bold, and italicis under it. I am gonna draw "it don't work" in red, flashing colors, neon, LED, GET A DAMN VIRAL VIDEO of this face, and then draw a million lines under it as underlining.

Because when did I get a mustache? That's the kind of thing you NOTICE!

"Just shave it off." He says.

Oh… right.

* * *

The door dings and Anakin goes to get it. He spits his mouth out in the sink and leaves his, ridicules, Padawan to his glaring at himself. He opens the door and Ahsoka walks in with a huff past him. "Bad day?" He asks.

She just groans and throws herself on the bed. Apparently trying to reconcile a misunderstanding with some girls didn't go so well. "What happened?" He asked gently.

*FSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS* A lightsaber pops on.

Anakin sits down by Ahsoka. She was a girl raised as a Jedi. Of course she would have trouble understanding 'normal'… girls.

Lightsaber. "VARUS!" Anakin barks and bursts into the bathroom.

*FSSSSSSSSZZIP*

* * *

Ok, shaving with a lightsaber. Not my best idea. But hey, the mustache was challenging me. At least I got to die knowing I took the thing with me.

Would 'killing your mustache' count as suicide?

I look around and find myself in some dank cave. People are walking by me in a zombie stare, all in the same direction like fish. A sound comes to my ears and I decide to go along to see what it is. Yes yes yes, I may look like one of these zombie idiots from their point of view, but whatever this sound is has piqued my worthy interest.

I enter a much larger cave, and the people disappear. The room is covered in gold. The floor is tiled and golden. The cave walls are plastered in gold. There is a golden throne as big as a skyscraper.

I don't like where this is going.

I stand before God, and wait patiently for him to notice me. The chair is turned around. Patience is not my strong suit, but hopefully being good, here, will be worth something. Maybe. Hopefully.

Yeah, I'm doomed.

The chair turns and- "Hey, Fatass!" I call cheerfully. I am not insulting him, but rather indeering to him. I know him, his nickname to me is Fatass. As soon as I know his real name, I'll use it. Bu hey! Turns out God is Fatass. Great, he knows me.

Oh, wait…

I just called God-Fatass a Fatass…

* * *

I wake up screaming. God-Fatass had put me in a place that burned and was filled with Eria's everywhere I looked, and there was a very angry Bastilla woman wondering why I was a nervous wreck around her. So yeah, not fun. There were a million of them!

Now I'm awake! Beautiful bed! Beautiful pillow! Beautiful- Where is everyone? Tree-Hugger and Ahsoka's beds are dormant. There's a note on one. It seems there's a funeral some place people are invited to.

Why wasn't I invited?!

I grab a taxi and make my way to the destination in question. It's a rather sad building, dark and dank with rats crawling out of the woodwork. Inside are dozens and dozens of rows and columns of chairs, but only a few are occupied. Falcon something is there, Ahsoka, Tree-Hugger, Psycho-Bunny, Baldy, Froggy, and a couple others I barely recognize. Someone is up there talking, so I silently slink in to a row next to Falcon. "What's going on? Who died?" I ask.

Falcon doesn't answer me. He doesn't act like I'm there to begin with. That's just rude. "Falcon? Whohoo." I wave my hand in front of his face. No reaction.

Wow, he really is good at pretending.

I sit back and listen to the speeches. "I didn't know him… not really. He was kinda rude, actually." The person says. I don't even recognize him. "Can I go home now?" Okay, what kind of funeral speech is that? Come on, let the guy go with some flare!

Next person stands up and says something about the foolishness of the ex-individual in question. Apparently the guy was one pickle short of a sandwich. Or maybe cheese. Yeah, cheese sounds better. Pickles are disgusting, so they wouldn't be included to begin with on this idiot's mental sandwich. Let's have him remove something he might actually like. Like meat. Yeah, remove the meat making up half the sandwich. He's a real nutcase.

Third person stands up and describes how the youth was rude, again. I get a sick feeling in my stomach. I glance at Falcon, and turn around toward people behind me. They aren't looking at me. For that matter, they didn't turn at all when I walked by.

Fourth person, this time Baldy, describes the death as a decapitation, and then something about the person's foolishness, and a hint of loyalty in there. My stomach drops further.

"Falcon." I hiss. "Who died?"

No reaction, at all.

Oh no… No, no no. No! I refuse! This is not happening!

Fifth person, Tree-Hugger, says he knew the guy. (oh crap) That the guy was a rough-individual who was trying. (oh crap!) and something else I didn't hear because I am jumping up and getting in line.

Sixth person is Maris. Oh come on! Why is she allowed to speak! She hates me! And just as I expect, she hates the person she is talking about (even though she isn't actually going so far as to mention my name!)

Next is me. I stand at the podium and… they actually notice me. Finally! "Hi." I say. A lot of them -all of them- are surprised to see me. I can't say I blame them. Not every day a guy rises from the dead. "I've never been to a funeral before. I wasn't sure what to expect, but it most certainly wasn't this. I'll miss me. I guess." Some of them look confused and/or insulted. I know, it sounded weird to me too. "But you know, I expected better! I mean look at the place! Its crust-infested filth! And no one had anything good to say! Not one of you! Not even you, Tree-Hugger! And who-" Fatass is in a row. "WHO LET HIM HERE!? And why is Maris here?! She hates me!" I pace across the podium, furious. "Doesn't anyone have one good thing to say about me! This has to have been the worst funeral I have ever been to!" I reach my coffin. "At least tell me you idiots stuck me in a nice suit or something!" I flip open the lid.

…

It's not me.


End file.
